


Here With Me

by holdingtorches



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Insecurity, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 15:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12820458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdingtorches/pseuds/holdingtorches
Summary: OC faces Tom's past.





	Here With Me

**_Caught in the riptide, I was searching for the truth_ **

I do not want to fight back.

To rally for my cause would mean that I was offended by her insolence. To retaliate would be to stoop down to her wretched level, and I wish to do no such thing.

But oh, I was crying.

Huddled in my bed, with the room’s lights turned off and tissues strewn all over the bed sheets. I didn’t need a mirror to know that I looked gross from crying, my eyes puffy and red. My nose was probably both clogged and running, and I was breathing like a fish out of water. I knew that I shouldn’t have been hit so hard by her words, but there I was, sobbing my arse off. Why was I so hurt, you ask? Because her words rang with truth.

Her words were the resistance of the truth I had accepted.

“You don’t deserve Tom,” she said, taking a sip from her tall cup of coffee, her perfectly manicured fingers gripping the paper sleeve. “You’re not beautiful to begin with. Have you actually seen yourself in a mirror? It’s a mystery why he loves you the way he does.” The dead air hung as I appeared to be unfazed by her harsh words. For a while, I masqueraded, telling those who heard the conversation that I had nothing to feel sorry for myself with, and that she was nothing but a mere speck of dust on my mantelpiece.

But then again, only small things can get in your eyes and irritate the hell out of them.

**_There was a reason I collided into you_ **

Why did Tom love me?

There were so many beautiful girls that night, and yet he had made his way from the other corner of the room just to talk to me. I remember when he came up to me: he was fidgeting and close to havering as well although we’ve interacted so many times before. Hell, even I was a blundering mess. I was twiddling my thumbs and looking down in embarrassment. We decided to stop conversing altogether until we had found something suitable to talk about.

“This party is such a bore, isn’t it? It’s too flashy and wild for such an affair,” I said, trying to break the awkward silence. I ended up breaking the ice, and soon after, we were laughing away and talking on and on. We discovered that we had so much in common, and by the time the night had ended, he had asked me out for coffee the following day.

There at the obscure café, basking in the light muted by the frosted glass, he had asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes, and our relationship blossomed from there. We’ve had our share of insanely sweet moments and maddeningly frustrating quarrels. Pushing through all of that, we were still together, and still loved each other.

But why? Why did he love me?

I was far from beautiful and possibly even too plain to be attractive, and yet he stayed with me. Why? What was so special about me? That woman was right; I didn’t deserve Tom. I didn’t deserve such a good thing in my life. Not someone as good as him. Not then. Not ever.

With that realisation, my tears sprang with refreshed grief. I was wailing, my arms squeezing a pillow I was sobbing into. I writhed as my breathing hitched, and my chest tightened as my cries broke the silence as softly as they could.

**_Calling your name in the midnight hour_ **

With the volume of my gross crying, I almost didn’t hear the door to my room softly creak open. I looked up from the pillow to find Tom, a bag of groceries in one hand and the other holding the door open.

“Tom,  _Tom_ ,” I wailed, my fingers clutching deeper into the pillow. My heart ached to see him, and I was reminded of that woman’s words when I saw his concerned face.

“What’s the matter, darling?” he asked, his hand dropping the groceries to rush over to me. He crawled into the bed and ran a hand through my back. The feeling of his warmth made me shudder, a new wave of tears forming. “What’s wrong? Won’t you tell me? Please tell me darling,” he pleaded, shifting his place to wrap both arms around me as I sobbed once more into my pillow.   

**_Reaching for you through the endless dream_ **

I turned around to face Tom, pillow forgotten. I stood on my knees as I looked at him. His expression was pained and worried, and my heart broke with seeing him in such a state. I waddled closer, still on my knees, and wrapped my arms around his neck. I buried my face in the soft curve where his neck met his shoulders and continued to cry. I just couldn’t help myself. The truth was overwhelmingly painful, making it seem to me as if my tears were never going to end. The past hour of my feels were like a nightmare to me, and now he was trying to save me from the dark abyss of our relationship’s unknown future.

“Tell me please, darling,” he whispered, his voice stained with gloom. “Tell me what’s bothering you. Please. I want to know,”

**_So many miles between us now_ **

As he begged, I set out to compress hundreds of miles into the bantam space between us. I didn’t want to trouble him because if I did, sadness would’ve drenched his being just as much as it had drowned mine. But my defences started to crumble as he continued begging me to break my walls and open my heart to him. Soon, I was answering his questions, sitting on his lap as I started gulping for air.

“Why are you crying, darling?” he asked as he pressed his cheek tenderly against mine. He was now sitting cross-legged on the bed and I was sitting on his lap. His arms seized my waist as he hugged me from behind. My back was facing him, and his body was rocking from side to side.

“I love you so much it hurts,” I said, wiping away a tear that threatened to run across my cheek. He hushed me and kissed my cheek softly, triggering my crying to come back vigourously.

“But why does it hurt?” Tom urged.

“Your ex…” I trailed off.

I felt his jaw tighten as his cheek stayed pressed against mine. His muscles tensed, and he hugged me even closer.

“What did she do, darling?” he asked. He turned to look at me, and I saw unease in his eyes.

“She said… she said I don’t deserve you. She said I was hideous, and that you deserved someone better.”

“And you believed her?” he asked me, his tone incredulous.

“Well, if you think about it Tom,” I said, hoping that what I was going to say wouldn’t spark his enlightenment. “I’ve nothing to give you but my love. I’m far from beautiful. I’m technically suffocating, darling: suffocating in my lack of anything worth being proud of. There are so many girls out there that—”

“There is no one like you, darling. I will never love someone with the same ardour as I love you,” Tom whispered in my ear. He shifted and laid me down on the bed slowly before straddling my knees. He leant in and let his forearms support his weight, his body forming a cage around me. He showered my face with sweet, chaste kisses as his fingers tickled my midsection. I howled with laughter, begging him to stop. He eventually did, and as my laughter died down, he cupped my face in his large, pale hands. His palms were soft and warm, contributing to the heat in my already warm cheeks and the deep colour of my blush.

**_But you were always here with me_ **

Tom pressed his forehead against mine, and I felt his breath wash gently over my face. He pressed his lips against mine and kissed me sincerely. He looked into my eyes, and I felt the warmth of his gaze breach the depths of my soul.

“The others you name are nothing but dull monochromes, darling,” he said as his nose touched mine. “You are a myriad of hundreds and thousands of colours, all converging to show me your spectacular soul. There will never be another, my love. I don’t look with my eyes because they resist simplicity. I look with my heart, and in this darkness, I can see your beauty radiating from within like a diamond in the right kind of light.”

Silence prevailed as his words hung in the air. My desolation ebbed slowly as he stroked my cheek. I moved my hands up to frame his face with them, my thumbs lightly grazing his cheekbones. It felt so surreal to share such a moment with him, and my mood lightened up. I felt a soft smile starting to curve at my lips as I ran my fingers through his curls.

“You’re selfish, darling,” he whispered in a serious tone.

My eyes widened as I snapped out of my bliss. At that moment, I swear, I was torn between slapping him right across his face (and possibly cutting my hand on his cheekbones in the process) or huddling up and crying again. I did  _not_  need those kinds of words at that time.

Tom chuckled to himself as he saw annoyance flicker in my face. He shifted his body again. When he stopped moving, he was spooning me, his arms round my waist.

“Your pain is so selfish. Share all your pain, your joy, your  _everything_ with me, darling. I want to feel what you feel and see the world through your eyes. I will always want you here with me, love,” he whispered into my ear. He leant in to kiss my earlobe gently, and my half-formed smile that disappeared earlier had blossomed into a full grin. We lay there in silence for a while, lounging in the unfathomable serenity the moment had presented.

A deep, slightly muted growling pierced the stillness, and its bad timing alarmed us both.

“That wasn’t me,” Tom said, his hands clutching my stomach. I squealed, and he rose from the bed.

“Well, darling? I’ll cook tonight, if you like,” he said, smoothing his shirt out. He lifted me off the bed and carried me to the kitchen, paying no heed to my protests. After putting me down, he fetched the groceries he dropped earlier and set them on the counter, wondering what he could cook with what he had.

 Right now, I’m watching Tom from the kitchen table. He’s dancing in the kitchen to Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie, his hips slightly swaying from side to side as he walked from the counter to the cupboards with an apron tied around his waist. It’s a funny sight to see, but I’m controlling my laughter because if I don’t, he’d stop dancing. I definitely don’t want that. After all, it turns me on just to see him dance. As if he felt my gaze, he turned around and he’s smiling at me, stirring up so much emotions in my soul.

Love is between our stares, and I’ve never felt so loved until now. I love him with the burning of a thousand suns, and I now know that he feels the same way. He’s here with me, and that’s all that seems certain now. He’s here with me.

**Author's Note:**

> This has to be the shortest fic I’ve written; it was written in the course of a day and a half and garners just three pages and a third on my MS Word copy. This fic is based on the “The Blacklist” version of Here With Me by Susie Suh and Robot Koch, which explains why only two stanzas of the song are in this fic. Truth be told, the idea for using this song in a story started swimming in my head the moment I heard the song while watching the show.


End file.
